The Stories Best Left Untold
by Caari
Summary: Sometimes tender, sometimes turbulent, what should have been simple becomes complicated by blood. When one only wants to forget, the other is quick to remind...some stories are best left untold, but they can never be erased completely. A collection of Gavincest drabbles.
1. Jaded

Klavier sits, perched liked a cat along the back rest of the couch, his own back reclined at an angle against the hideous yellow wall in the living room. A picture frame digs into his shoulder blade; his guitar into his thigh; sharp words and heat and anger into his mind. His cheek stings, as the angry welts on his wrists do.

He strums the guitar as a dare, tuneless noise to fill the already potent silence. He is sure he hears him, Kristoph, but damn if he is not good at hiding it. He gives the strings another slap, a sharp twang rising from them in protest. Still, he does not turn around. Klavier begins to hum.

Then humming turns to words, hissed between his teeth as though half-vocalized thought—a pointed jab at that turned head. Lyrics from some popular American band or another, meant to be screamed and snarled with all of the heat he feels boiling in his belly, angst-ridden and miserable. Kristoph does not turn. He does not even know the song.

Sometimes, it was enough to have him there, all gentle smiles and manners and goodness. And sometimes, well.

"Sometimes sorry is not enough… I find myself possessed by your heat; terrible urges and rising tides, craving your stillness at my feet. Let you feel what I do —wanna make you know you, as I do. As I do."

A small scoff, but nothing more.

Sometimes, he wishes he could make him see what terrible thoughts he bred in his head. The bad times between the good that bred thoughts of tantrums and hitting; hitting until something irreplaceable broke. And in those moments, Klavier is afraid of himself and his thoughts.

For it is in those moments, he feels his knows his brother all too well.


	2. Some Like It Hot

Klavier fidgets—the rope is extra tight tonight, the chair somehow more uncomfortable now than it had been before his restraint. A grimace tugs down the corners of his lips as he watches his elder stroll leisurely about the kitchen, knowing there is more than a little malice hiding beneath the sweet tune hummed in his throat. Kristoph never hummed when he was up to something pleasant.

"You know, little one, I found your interview this afternoon…very telling."

His stomach drops down low, a spike of fear running through his blood. _Oh._ That's what this was about. The urge to escape the hempen bindings became slightly more pressing, but no amount of copious jerking and wriggling would free his wrists.

Kristoph slowly comes around to him, stirring a small container with a deceptively tiny fork. With deliberate care, he turns the other chair away from the counter and sets it before his little brother, hopping into it with the greatest of ease. One long leg swings up to cross the other and he offers Klavier his sweetest grin.

He feels the urge to wet himself also growing in intensity.

"Comfy?" He does not bother waiting for the answer before he takes up the small contained once more, looking down into it as he stabs at the contents inside. "About that interview… I did not much care for the coarse language I heard coming from your lips."

"Krissy, I—"

The fork is jammed between the rock star's lips in a swift stabbing motion, nearly skewering his tongue upon the prongs. The defense attorney's other hand has discarded the container on the counter and clenched tight about his jaw, holding it shut so that he may not spit out what was so 'carefully' placed within it. Klavier jerks and squeals in heated protest as the almost rancid burn of the kimchi scorches his tongue, the juices searing paths down the back of his throat.

But he knows he will not be released until he has swallowed it, and it takes three gagging attempts before it slides like solid lava down into his stomach. As he shoots his brother a tearful glare, panting like a mutt in the heat, Kristoph merely gives his beloved a chilling smile.

"Next time, it will be something more foul. Mind your tongue."


End file.
